


Weighting the Odds

by Jedi Buttercup (jedibuttercup)



Series: Heads We Win; Tails You Lose [1]
Category: Fast and the Furious Series, The Fast and the Furious (2001)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Psychic Abilities, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 11:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8530516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedibuttercup/pseuds/Jedi%20Buttercup
Summary: In the moment, riding an adrenaline burst like a shot of NOS to the system, talking about careful control of largely subconscious abilities was a joke-- and not just for Brian.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Backtracking for an alternate scene near the beginning of TFATF: another excerpt from that Mutants/Specials AU I've never really had the time to write. I've had most of this in a scrapfile for awhile, but I was in need of some comfortfic this week.

Brian was pretty sure Toretto had been suspicious from the start that he wasn't entirely susceptible to the man's charm. For a guy who looked like a musclebound bruiser, he was as sharp and observant as any cop, and Brian was well aware he'd been dropping too many clues.

Tanner would be pissed; he'd told Brian to keep it quiet as long as he could. That the fact other gifteds' mental abilities got no purchase on him would flip from asset to liability if anyone figured it out while he was still undercover. But he didn't know what else he could have done. In the moment, riding an adrenaline burst like a shot of NOS to the system, talking about careful control of largely subconscious abilities was a joke-- and not just for him. It had been instinct for Dom to _lean_ ; and just as instinctive for Brian to chart his own course. Particularly when more than just a race was on the line; getting caught by patrol cops not in the know would ruin his day almost as thoroughly as it would Dom's.

The moment they were clear of that maze of vehicular mayhem, the backlash of using his gift to thread every needle and dodge every bystander setting up a drumbeat in his skull, he glanced over at Dom, wondering what the fuck to do next. Only to meet an equally cautious gaze, staring back: eyes wide and dark, a frown line forming between them.

"You know, you're the last person in the world I expected to show up," Dom said, thoughtfully.

Someone born with as much inbuilt charisma as Dominic Toretto was probably used to being the center of gravity in any given group, even when he wasn't exercising his extra gifts. But when he was... well. It wasn't just the charm; he was one of only a handful of other tychokinetics Brian had ever met. The capacity to affect the quantum fabric of the universe in such a way that probability was skewed in your favor had got Brian out of a number of spectacular scrapes in his day, often in extremely unpredictable ways. And he had the feeling the same was true of Dom.

Whatever the file said, the guy _wasn't_ just some violent thug; he was too controlled for that, his gifts too potent not to raise question marks about why he hadn't used them instead of a wrench the day he'd earned his ticket to Lompoc. What that meant for the job, though, Brian still hadn't figured out.

"I thought if I got in your good graces, you might let me keep my car," he replied, affecting a casual air.

A tangible wave of mental pressure followed his reply; weirdly, though, it didn't feel like the usual heavy blanket of projective empathy. Nor had Dom's earlier _shove_ away from the cops, or the time he'd stepped in to defuse Brian's fistfight with Vince. More like... another hand on the steering wheel? Actually, it felt a lot like an intensification of Brian's own tychokinetic gift, as if Chance had teamed up with Charm to promise Brian that he would just be _so much happier_ if he took one particular turn up ahead out of all possible other routes.

"You are in my good graces," Dom replied aloud. "But you ain't keeping your car. Especially since you drive like you've done this before. What's your gift? And don't tell me _enhanced reflexes_ , like you implied to Harry. I know the difference when I see it."

"What, I can't just have this much natural talent?" Brian scoffed, deliberately ignoring the unspoken influence. It was harder than he'd expected; it didn't feel as foreign as most outside mental influences did. Which was fascinating... and made a lot more sense of why several more experienced officers had backed out of the job before Tanner offered it to Brian. Their explanations had all been a little vague.

There weren't many studies done on the synergy between unrelated gifts, though. About a twentieth of those the public labelled 'mutants' had more than one ability, but they were usually closely related: projective as well as receptive empathy, energy kinesis tied to object manipulation, quickheal teamed with extra strength, shit like that. Shamrocks-- or whatever local slang people used for tychokinetics-- were rare enough in the first place; Brian was in completely uncharted territory himself, never mind what Toretto brought to the yard. Maybe no-one else had recognized the effects?

That thought was a lot more appealing than it had any right to be.

"Sure you _could_. If these were your streets, I might even buy it. But you're new here," Dom growled. "I don't need to see the dice to know when they've been loaded."

Well, if denial wouldn't work... only one way out of it, then. What a surprise.

"Appropriate choice of words," Brian replied with a wide, reckless grin. "The reflexes thing-- it usually explains what people see, so I let the assumption ride when they make it. They tend to get weird about quantum-effect gifts if I try to explain; it sounds too much like magic."

"Trickster," Dom concluded in satisfied tones. "Thought so. First one other than me I've ever met."

"Really?" Brian replied, covering relief with affected surprise. "Heard you were a charm guy."

"Whose charm don't work on you?" Dom snorted. "You knew; don't tell me you couldn't tell."

"All right, so maybe I did," Brian admitted, still grinning. "That a good thing or a bad thing?" 

Dom glanced over at the side mirror-- and his mood suddenly faded. "Depends."

"On what?" Brian pressed, taken aback. He'd already gone off-script; he couldn't lose Dom now.

"On whether our combined luck can get us out of _that_ ," Dom replied, jerking his chin. "It's gonna be a long-ass night."

Brian followed his gaze, frowning at the fleet of motorcycles zooming up to bracket the Eclipse.

Challenge accepted, he decided, and prepared to roll the dice once more.


End file.
